The Boy Who Lived and the Annoying Voldemort
by darkdreamsbefall
Summary: A simple oneshot. Harry has told Dumbledore that Voldemort went insane. Now he must recall what happened in the graveyard after being transported there by the portkey.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything in the HP world.

**Note: **I got this idea when I was talking to Dori on the phone. I wanted to draw it as a manga screen but I suck at drawing so I wrote it down instead. Enjoy...

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The Boy Who Lived and the Annoying Voldemort

Dumbledore took his comfortable chair behind his desk. He surveyed the Boy Who Lived as he sat in front of his desk with Sirius standing by his side with a hand on his shoulder.

"Voldemort has gone insane," said Harry.

Dumbledore raised a questioning eyebrow as he asked, "Why do you say that?"

Harry sighed knowing that he would have to explain what happened in the graveyard. He didn't wish to recall the whole event so he began where he thought it would be best.

"Well…"

**Flashback**

The cords were bond tightly around Harry's body binding him without a hope to Tom Riddle's tombstone. It wasn't until Wormtail's struggling rasping breath glided across Harry's face, tickling his ear, did he realize that Peter had staggered over to stand beside him.

"B-blood of the enemy…forcibly taken…you will…resurrect your foe."

Harry struggled against the ropes though to no avail for they were too tight. He watched helplessly at the silver blade dagger that quivered in Wormtail's hand. He could only continue to watch as the dagger easily cut through his tattered robe sleeve to bite into the soft flesh of his arm. He felt the blood seeping out of the wound flowing down his arm to drip onto the ground. Wormtail let the dagger fall to the ground before he reached into his robe producing a vial to hold up to Harry's wound catching a droplet of his life fluid.

Peter turned away from Harry to lurch back to the simmering cauldron with the blood he had stolen from the Boy Who Lived. He let the crimson liquid dribble into the cauldron. The moment the blood mixed with the substance inside it turned a blinding white. Wormtail, having down what his beloved master wanted him to do, slumped to the ground, cradling the stump of his arm.

Since nothing happened besides a fancy light show Harry began to hope that whatever was wrapped in the rags had drowned. That was all he could do since the bloody ropes still held him tight to the tombstone.

'_All I want to do is live a normal life for once. Is that too bloody much to ask for?'_ thought Harry as he struggled against his imprisonment. He was beginning to become annoyed since being tied up wasn't very comfortable.

"And why the hell do I have to be tied to a bloody tombstone!" he mumbled under his breath.

He became quiet as the sparks that were emitting out of the simmering cauldron were suddenly quenched. A surge of white steam billowed thickly up out of the dark depths of the cauldron to roll over the graveyard obscuring everything from Harry's sight.

Oh how Harry wished that whatever ritual Wormtail had preformed had gone amiss but knowing his luck for the past three years, the likelihood of something going right for him was next to none. So he wasn't surprised when he saw a tall skeletally thin figure rising up from within the white mists.

"My robe," a horrifyingly familiar cold voice rolled out into the darkness.

Wormtail, still cradling his maimed arm, scampered to get the black robes lying on the ground. He scrambled to his feet, the pathetic whimpers still escaping from between his lips; he reached up, gently yanking the robes over his master's head with one hand.

The man stepped out of the cauldron with the white mists trailing around his robed figure as his feet touched the ground. He turned to face Harry, staring straight into his eyes. Harry stared straight back into the eyes of his enemy. Oh, he knew it would be Voldemort. Who else had taken an enthrallment in finding ways in making his life a living hell, besides Draco of course, and is out to kill him.

The man who stood before him was whiter than bones that have been bleached by the sun. His eyes as scarlet as the blood that still lingered on Harry's fingertips, and a nose as flat as a snake's with slits for nostrils. The one and only Lord Voldemort had risen again and he, the Boy Who Lived, on many different occasions he might add, had the pleasure of having a front row seat for the show, not to mention that his blood was used as part of the ritual to bring him back.

Voldemort looked away from Harry to admire his knew body. A thin brittle smile crept onto his lips as his pale arms caressed his chest and face. Oh how he was delighted to have a body back. He brought an arm up into the air in front of him watching his fingers bind as he flexed his hand. The smile grew when his fingers slid into a pocket of the robe to find his wand. His precious, precious wand, oh how he would enjoy using it to the fullest, starting with one very annoying Harry Potter, who was presently tied up on the headstone of his late father.

Harry looked down when he heard a hiss. Seeing that the snake had return to slithering around him in a circle he glared at it as he mumbled, "Just wait you blasted snake. I'll kill you and your master too."

Voldemort's enjoyment of having his body back was only heightened when he saw Peter twitching uncontrollably, as if he was placed under the Cruciatus cruse though without the screaming, near his feet. He twirled the wand around in his unnaturally long fingers before lazily pointing it at Wormtail, who was immediately lifted off the ground and thrown against the headstone where that Potter brat was.

Peter lay crying on the ground at Harry's feet. His robe was drenched in his own blood since he had wrapped the stump of his arm in it to try and stop the bleeding. Voldemort cast his gaze towards Peter letting out a mirthless laugh that made the blood run cold in Harry and Wormtail.

Peter looked up at his master, fear tainting his eyes, as he trembled. "My Lord…" he choked. "My Master…you promised…you promised…please my Lord…"

"Hold out your arm," he lazily drawled.

"Oh, my Master…thank-you, master…"

Peter extended his mutilated arm, but Voldemort merely let out the blood freezing mirthless laugh again.

Harry shot Peter a glare as he thought, _'Must you make him laugh? It's creepy seeing him laugh.'_

"The other arm, Wormtail," spoke Voldemort, knowing that Peter was only a Death Eater because he wanted to be protected by the power of the Dark Lord rather than be on the receiving end of the Avada Kedavra curse.

"B-b-but Master…you promised Master."

The brittle smile returned to Voldemort's lips as he bent down grabbing Wormtail's left arm. He jerked Peter up by his arm before pushing up the sleeve revealing what looked to be a vivid tattoo of a skull with a snake protruding out of its mouth. It was the same mark that Harry saw hovering in the sky at the Quidditch World Cup. It was the Dark Mark.

"It has returned," he spoke softly as he examined the Dark Mark. "Now we shall see who is still faithful…"

He gently ran his white fingers over the mark before pressing his forefinger into the mark.

The scar on Harry's forehead seared with pain. He scowled at Voldemort as he thought, _'Why must my scare hurt like hell when he does that? It's not like I'm a freaking Death Eater!'_

Wormtail let out a howl of agony when the pain had shot through Harry. Voldemort removed his fingers from Wormtail's arm causing him to crumple back to the ground for Voldemort had been the only thing keeping him standing. Harry saw that the mark had turned black.

It took a while for the Death Eaters to reassemble at the graveyard. So while they waited Voldemort had told Harry that he was tied to the tombstone of his late father who, for once, could do a good thing.

When the Death Eaters had arrived Voldemort spoke with them placing one of them under the Cruciatus curse while he said that one would be killed since he had abandoned his Dark Lord forever. He babbled on about saying that he doesn't forgive nor does he forget. He waited thirteen long years and it would take the Death Eaters thirteen long years to gain his forgiveness though Peter had paid some of his debt off since he had helped return him to his body.

He looked down at Wormtail a cruel smile upon his lips as Wormtail continued to sob.

"You deserve this pain, Wormtail for you didn't return to me out of loyalty. You were afraid of what your old friends would do."

"Yes, Master. I am sorry Master," he moaned. "But please…Master…"

"However you helped return me to my body and Lord Voldemort rewards his little worthless ponds…I mean Lord Voldemort rewards his helpers."

He lazily whirled his wand through the air and in its wake hung something that looked like shinning molten silver. It hovered in the air for a moment as a shapeless mass before it formed a hand and attached itself to Peter's bleeding wrist. He flexed his shinning fingers in awe of his new hand for it was much better than his old one.

"Oh, my Lord," he whispered breathlessly, "Master…it is beautiful, my Master. Thank you…_thank you_…"

He slithered forward on his knees and kissed the hem of his Master's robes.

"You don't deserve such a fine hand for you loyalty wavered. Let your loyalty falter again and you'll die."

"Never will I, my Lord…" squeaked Wormtail like the rat he is as he scrambled backwards taking his place in the ring of Death Eaters.

"You all must be wondering how I have regained my body and that will be told later for now I have the most important thing I must announce," Voldemort spoke solemnly as he raised one of his long bony white fingers. "Before I wasn't able to touch this brat without being hurt, which is why he's been able to survive our many encounters…but now…watch…"

Voldemort extended the finger that he had risen and touched Harry's cheek.

Voldemort blinked before saying, "It worked. It actually worked. Look I can touch him."

He poked Harry a few more times but this time on his shoulder. The only thing that Harry could do was glare at Voldemort, so that's what he did.

"Touchy…touchy…touchy…heehee…I can touch you…poky…poky," he said with glee poking the Boy Who Lived each time he said touchy or poky.

The gathered Death Eaters looked nervously at each other than turned to glare upon Peter believing that he some how screwed up the ritual causing their Master to lose his mind.

Peter raised his hands in defense saying, "I didn't do anything."

They turned their eyes back to their Master as he spoke, "Look my little ponds I can _touch_ him…wee…oh this is fun."

The Dark Lord jabbed his finger into Harry's shoulders a few more time before pinching the boy's cheeks, as a grandmother would do.

Harry's glare soon diminished as his eyes narrowed into annoyance as his archrival, his sworn enemy, his nemesis, stood there and repeatedly jabbed him in his face or shoulder saying poky or touchy each time. He could feel a vein dangerously throbbing on his forehead.

The Death Eaters let out a nervous laugh as they watched their Master merrily continued his poking torture.

Harry, about having all that he could take, yelled, "Will you stop that already!"

Voldemort stopped in his torturing as he stared wide-eyed, shocked that he would be yelled at. He threw an arm around Harry's shoulders as he cheerfully asked, "But isn't it great that I can touch you without being hurt?"

"No it's not great! It's annoying!"

"Oh…" Voldemort's arm dropped away from Harry's shoulder.

His shoulders drooped hurt that Harry didn't find it a joyous occasion that he, Lord Voldemort, could touch him without hurting his poor little fingers. He bent down picking up the dagger that Wormtail had dropped. Straightening back up he sliced the dagger through the cords that bond Harry.

"Now you'll enjoy it more since you're not tied to that nasty cold tombstone," he said pinching Harry's cheek again.

Harry swatted the pale hand away rubbing his poor abused cheek as he growled out, "No. I. Do. Not. Enjoy. Being. _Poked_!"

"I see," he mumbled his shoulders dropping as he cast his gaze towards the ground. His scarlet eyes swelled up with crocodile tears as his bottom lip quivered. He turned away from the mean boy and walked away.

He stopped before he got to the line of his Death Eaters. His head snapping up as he turned around and ran back to Harry, who had gotten his wand out, throwing his arms around the boy's shoulders giving him a big bear hug.

"You just needed a big bear hug that's why you're so upset."

The Death Eaters sweatdropped and Harry joined them after the initial shock wore away. One of the Death Eaters broke away from the circle walking forward to stand by his Master, who was still hugging Harry.

"Come my Lord. We have some issues to figure out," said Lucius.

"Aww do you need a hug too?" asked Voldemort wrapping his arms around Lucius pinning his arms to his side.

At first Harry was dumbfounded but he soon was snickering at Lucius. Oh how he wished he had a camera. That would be a priceless picture.

Lucius pulled away from his Master. He would have to pay Harry back later for snickering at him, but for now he had more important things to do, such as killing Peter for causing their Lord to go insane. He began to guide Voldemort to the other Death Eaters who had broken the circle to gather in a group. Peter was in the middle of the group so he couldn't escape.

However, when Lucius was guiding Voldemort away from Harry, he broke away from his grasp and ran back to Harrying giving him a bone crushing hug like that of Molly Weasley.

"I'm sorry for killing your parents and for trying to kill you for the past years."

"Sorry about that," said Lucius as he pried the Dark Lord off of Harry.

**End of Flashback**

"After Mr. Malfoy got Voldemort off of me for the last time he apparated with him out of the graveyard, the other Death Eaters quickly followed and apparated away. I got to the portkey with Cedric's body and I ended back here," said Harry coming to the conclusion of his explorations in the graveyard.

Dumbledore and Sirius blankly stared at Harry. Having a happy-go-lucky Voldemort was scarier than having him as a mass murderer.


End file.
